


A Different Kind of First

by Seek_The_Mist



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Damaged boys getting better, Dry Humping, Early Mornings, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Kind of not properly, M/M, Masturbation, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 18:39:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7768807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seek_The_Mist/pseuds/Seek_The_Mist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan wakes to find a new amazing routine, unexpected and long sought-after.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Ronan looked at Adam’s face, for once clear of his constant exhaustion, and he saw a realm of possibility, the shadow of steps forward.</i></p><p>  <i>This was the morning after their first real night together.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <b>Pynch week – Day 2 – Morning After</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind of First

**Author's Note:**

  * For [picapie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/picapie/gifts).



> Wherever I go I bring the p0rn, I know, sorry (not so sorry...).
> 
> This work is shamefully inspired by this [**freaking amazing fanart**](http://picapicae.tumblr.com/post/148202140272/variation-on-a-theme) , for which the artist of course has full credits and all my love. Please go shout at her how amazing she is.  
>  I finally now that she goes by Sabeth here on Ao3 so the work is rightfully gifted to her :3
> 
> Still no beta, no party and not a native language speaker, sadly...
> 
> Written for the Pynchweek, Day 2, "Morning After".

Light filtered through Ronan’s dazed mind, dragging him slowly towards a state of consciousness.  
The light curtain was shuffling slowly in the air in front of the open window, following the whim of a capricious morning wind. The slight chill was accompanied by distant and organic sounds of the Barn’s ground, already awake or perpetually sleeping at the same time.

In the fuzzy, diffuse daylight of what promised to be a cloudy day, Ronan suddenly realized that he had not been dreaming. Yet he almost felt heavy, grounded to stillness.

He found himself exhaling and then instinctually slowing down, following an external rhythm which required to be matched.

A minute tilt on his head to the side was enough to lay his eyes on Adam’s sleeping form, stunning and surreal where he laid two spans away on the neighbouring pillow.  
The defensiveness of his arms, tucked close to his body, was counterbalanced by the trusting weight of his leg, curled over Ronan’s, their ankle intertwined. 

His tight was tingling, his calf sort of sore where the knob of Adam’s bone pressed.  
Ronan never wanted to move again.

He turned minutely towards Adam, as soft as the breeze, to anxious to break this bubble, to ruin everything by waking him. He moved his free leg to tuck Adam’s safely between his tights.

The feeling of his living skin against him was marvellous, every inch of bronzed skin against the faint daylight and the white bed sheets tantalizing.

His own breath burned in his lungs.

He let his eyes wander, down the curve of his half-covered body, up again towards his face.  
The serene restfulness on Adam’s handsome face was worth all the world’s blessings, and then some.

 

It was not the first time he saw him sleep. It was not the first time he saw him sleep in the Barns, even in Ronan’s bed, either.  
He could recall every kiss of the previous evening, every hurried breath and the strong grasp of Adam’s hand on the curve of his hipbone. The intimacy was not the novelty. 

This morning, though, still marked the first time he ever went to sleep in his bed, in his home, with his boyfriend – Jesus, _his boyfriend_ – and woke up in the exact same place, at peace.

Sleep was a complicated business for a dreamer, even now that he was sensible in the stuff that he could bring back, the nightmares were at bay, the demons done unmaking.  
It was supposed to be less complicated for Adam as well, powerful dreamlands done beaconing for help, no desperate darkness pushing, fixing that could wait for his vigil state.

The worst kinds of demons are the one far less supernatural and impossible than the ones they encountered, though, and exorcized only by time.

So Ronan still woke with random creations there for the impossible task of keeping his long gone parents alive, or the rest of his family safe.  
Adam still woke trapped in a spiral of pressure, and violence, and desperation, the overwhelming pressure of finding a way out of dream scenario especially created by his mind to be unsolvable too much even for the most resourceful magician.

Though it was tough to admit, Ronan could at least find comfort in his temporary immobilisation with Adam’s presence by his side. However, he was still too adrenalin-filled, sleep far gone, to do anything but get up and scatter off somewhere else.  
Adam, instead, would usually woke up from the horrors of his mind claustrophobic, disoriented and terrified by any close presence, even Ronan’s, and even exiling himself in Matthew’s room could not easily get rid of the fear, or the guilt for his recoils.

It was then a sad routine for them to start off together, and end up light year apart.

They always orbit back in line, but the knowledge of the fact that their peace real, so very real, and yet so hectic, still clung to them.

Not this morning.  
Not today.  
Not anymore, maybe.

Ronan looked at Adam’s face, for once clear of his constant exhaustion, and he saw a realm of possibility, the shadow of steps forward.

This was the morning after their first real night together. 

 

Ronan repressed a laugh, giddier than anyone had the right to be this early in the morning.

A conservative person would enjoy this moment as it came, and soak in it, easily satisfied. 

Ronan Lynch was not a conservative person and everything in his life was a game of pushing and testing of limits.

Adam was beautiful, close, and utterly _his_ , on _his_ bed, in _his_ house, even in _his damn clothes_ , the waistband of his borrowed boxers slightly too large on his lean body.

He lifted one hand, delicate, oh-so-delicate, to trace the line of freckles whose path could be followed from the roots of Adam’s hairs to the tip of his toes without interruptions, the tip of his fingers grazing the skin of his hip.  
He praised himself on his boldness even while his free hand closed down on itself, steeling for self-control or maybe for the consequences of venturing too far.

Adam just sighed softly, sleeping over the outline of a smile.

This morning was _perfection_.

Ronan gambled with luck and fabric, fingers venturing along the sensitive outline of his hip, towards the v of his legs.  
Adam did not wake but a vague shudder rippled through his muscles; he canted closer against the twine of their legs. He was hard.

This _day was perfection_.

Ronan could not stop smiling, a weird sense of self-satisfaction that made him feel slightly maniac in more than one sense.  
It might or might not have something to do with how he just reached out and seek what some egomaniac part of his mind labelled as his as well, on Adam’s lovely body, while Adam was still sleeping.  
He was not sure that doing his best to be soft and gentle actually counted as doing the best thing; the less egomaniac part of his mind reminded him that if Adam were to wake to bite his face off he absolutely brought it upon himself. 

Adam just murmured, pliantly, a slight movement to seek a better angle. At the same time, his eyelids fluttered open and awake, sort of mollified but undoubtedly staring at Ronan. A rather intense stare.

Ronan stared back, slowing almost to stillness, and he silently counted the seconds.

Adam just swayed against his hand, seeking friction, without breaking his cloudy graze. 

“ _Ah…_ ”

 _This whole fucking week was perfection_.

The resumed his stroking, too engrossed in the lazy atmosphere, so fragile in itself, to make it anything more than a leisured pace.

It lasted forever and it was gone too fast, Adam’s hand grasping at his nape and shaking under his touch, his moans a prodigious echo in Ronan’s head. 

They were silent for a long second, almost stupefied by themselves.

Adam’s arm tightened around his shoulders and he slid impossibly closer, his leg dragging up all the way to press against Ronan’s crotch.

Stars exploded in his visions and universes expanded in his lungs, leaving him breathless, mouth agape, only one word left in his vocabulary.

“ _A_ -Adam…”

A couple of embarrassingly fast seconds and he was done for, surrendered, his free hand grasping at Adam’s t-shirt in a twitch.

His breath was still out of synch and he was ready to tell Adam that he would go back asleep, just like that, and he would dream him an entire world, he would dream Adam perfection, he would dream him every single one of his desires.

He opened his mouth, drawing his breath.

Adam just kissed him.

Ronan was fine with it as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Shouting at me on my [Tumblr](http://seekthemist.tumblr.com) is always an option!


End file.
